John, still shuddering, was about to turn back to his horse, when he remembered that he needed much and that in war one must not be too scrupulous.  Force of will made him return to the group and he sought for what he wanted.  Evidently the firing had been hot there and the rest of the patrol had not lingered in their flight.

He took from one man a pair of blankets.  He could have had his choice of two or three good rifles, but he passed them by in favor of a large automatic pistol which would not be in the way.  This had been carried by a young man whom he took to be an officer, and he also found on him many cartridges for the pistol.  Then he searched their knapsacks for food, finding plenty of bread and sausage and filling with it one knapsack which he put over his shoulder.

He returned hastily to his horse, guided him around the fatal spot, and when he was some distance on the other side dismounted and ate as only a half-starved man can eat.  Water was obtained from a convenient brook and carefully storing the remainder of the food in the knapsack he remounted the horse.

“Now go on, my good and gallant beast,” he said, “and I feel sure that your journey is nearly at an end.  A draught horse like you, bulky and slow, would not wander any great distance.”

The horse himself immediately justified his prediction by raising his head, neighing and advancing at a swifter pace.  John saw, standing among some trees, a low and small house, built of stone and evidently very old, its humble nature indicating that it belonged to a peasant.  Behind it was a tiny vineyard, and there was a stable and another outhouse.

“Well, Marne, my lad, here’s your home, beyond a doubt,” said John.  But no answer came to the neigh.  The house remained silent and dark.  It confirmed John’s first belief that the horse belonged to some peasant who had fled with his family from the armies.  He stroked the animal’s neck, and felt real pity for him, as if he had been a child abandoned.

“I know that while I’m a friend I’m almost a stranger to you, but come, we’ll examine things,” he said.

He sprang off the horse, and drew his automatic.  The possession of the pistol gave him an immense amount of courage and confidence, but he did not anticipate any trouble at the house as he was sure that it was abandoned.

He pushed open the door and saw a dark inside.  Staring a little he made out a plainly furnished room, from which all the lighter articles had been taken.  There was a hearth, but with no fire on it, and John decided that he would sleep in the house.  It was in a lonely place, but he would take the risk.

The horse had already gone to the stable and was pushing the door with his nose.  John let him in, and found some oat straw which he gave him.  Then he left him munching in content, and as he departed he struck him a resounding blow of friendliness on the flank.